


Just LISTEN To The Tapes

by Squeakyshroom



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Dry Humping, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Situational Humiliation, awkard boners, nonconsensual lap sitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-17 09:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeakyshroom/pseuds/Squeakyshroom
Summary: Clay won't. Tony takes matters into his own hands.





	

Clay is insufferable, biking into direct traffic like he has a death wish. His boy has painted a HIT-ME-PLEASE sign on his forehead and is peddling around looking for trouble. It's gotten past the point of bravery and moved into the zone of sheer stupidity. Tony's been watching for ten other tapes and nobody else -not Justin or Jessica or Alex- has managed to drive him this crazy. _Maybe because I actually give a shit if something bad happens to Clay_ , a voice in his head whispers.

It's all Tony can do to keep Clay safe. How many more times does he have to whisk Clay away to safety until it sinks in? Tony's going grey worrying and zooming off trying to keep track of this walking disaster. Worse...why has Tony begun to _enjoy_ his role as resident stalker slash guardian angel? There's a sick pleasure in seeing Clay's eyes light up when he sees him and...it has to stop. 

He flips open his contacts and glares at Clay's number like the phone is going to dial itself. Finally, he hits 'call.' 

"Listen, Clay. Everyone else has listened to the tapes in one night," Tony says firmly. "And you're gonna do the same."

"I just can't."

"Why not?" he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"I...don't know. I'm just so anxious every time that I hear her voice...and I...I keep flashing back from the past to the present. I don't think I can just sit down and binge them all cause It's really hard for me to listen for more than a couple minutes. I have to shut it off. And every time I do turn it on...I'm scared that it'll be mine."

"I get it, but it's enough. You're going to put on your big boy panties, bike over to my house, and finish. Okay? This is all gonna end _tonight_."

"But isn't that against the rules? You have to go to the location and-"

"Fuck the rules, Clay."

"W-what?"

"At this point I'll just tell you what the destinations she intended and you fucking listen, alright? That's the important part of this- _listening_ to Hannah's story. Not biking around like Mr. Wonder-Kid and getting yourself killed by a car. That's not what Hannah would have wanted. No, I'm going to hang up, pull up to your house, and you're going to get in my red mustang, _bien_?"

"Okay, yeah. Lemme just go tell my mom."

It's not like Clay has been telling his parents anything but Tony allows it, drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel. His phone buzzes, and it's a text from his not-boyfriend boyfriend wondering where he is. Tony mutes his phone and shoves it into his back pocket. He needs to just concentrate for one night and help his friend get through this. Clay, looking like death rolled over, stumbles out of his house with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Someone needs to wash this poor boys hair and put him to sleep. How did his mom let him walk out of the house looking like that? Tony shakes his head at the intrusive, maternal thoughts as Clay opens the passenger door. 

"I still don't know if I can-"

"Don't be a child. Close the door and sit down," Tony sighs and starts the ignition. Clay bites his lip and just protectively hugs the backpack to his chest. He looks so small and tired, pushing his slick hair back, and Tony's stomach twists with guilt. Seeing the others writhe had been justified in some way, but Clay doesn't really deserve to suffer like this. Not for this long. These tapes are a band-aid Clay needs to rip off with one listening. They're not longer than fifteen minutes each, so it shouldn't even take him the whole night to finish. All the other kids hadn't been able to put it down. They'd all probably listened to it three times in the first night. But not Clay. 

They pull up into the driveway and sit in silence for a minute. Tony's worried that Clay's fallen asleep but when he looks over he realizes that he's just frozen with fear. He squeezes his shoulder and Clay gives him a hesitant nod.

"I'll try," Clay manages. 

He waves 'hola' to his papa as they pass him in the garage and head straight up to his room. Despite his promise to 'try,' Clay's dragging his feet, so Tony takes him by the wrist and pulls him sharply inside. 

"Any slower, and you'll be going backwards."

"I'm...scared," he whimpers as he slumps down on the bed, and Tony has the strangest urge to ruffle his brown head. Or hug him. 

Instead, Tony squeezes Clay's shoulder once more and urges: "Listen to them now. Be afraid later."

It has to end tonight and not a single night more. Tony can't keep tossing and turning in fear that something's happened to his boy. He can't keep twisting with anxiety. He can't keep this up. Tonight is the night. 

Clay slowly pulls out the tapes, pouting as he does, and puts the headphones on on. Then takes them off. Puts them on. Takes them off.

"Look. I really don't think that I can do this. Can you be my unhelpful Yoda maybe tomorrow or...?"

" _Oh, dios_. Now!'

"But I-"

Tony growls and pulls him onto his lap, holds him firmly by the waist.

Clay inhales sharply in surprise at the move, but Tony's done asking nicely: "Listen to the fucking tapes, Clay!"

"A-alright. Alright," Clay clicks play and settles in Tony's lap.

Tony has his head resting on his friends shoulder, listening to the sound of Hannah's voice leaking through the headphones. It takes him a minute to realize- _wait, this is kind of horribly intimate, e_ specially with his steady breath against Clay's neck and his hands wrapped around his waist. _Oh god_. He swallows as Clay shifts his ass against him. This would be really bad time to get aroused, but it's getting hard to keep his breathing regular with Clay's soft backside pressed down against him. _Try to think of unsexy things...grass...grandma's ass...car crashes..._

It takes him a full second to realize that the tape has stopped.

Clay shifts back against him again and mummers, "Uh, Tony...you're...um..." _hard_.

"Just ignore it and keep listening, alright? Come on, baby," Tony flinches as the soft 'baby' slips out of his lips, and the gentle word makes Clay squirm even harder in his lap. Okay, this is a bad idea. Bad with a capital B. 

"Y-yeah, sure," Clay stutters because he's too nice and heterosexual to make a fuss and turns the tapes back on.

Tony bites back a whimper at the continued heat of Clay in his lap. The way Clay looks so small and nice there, like it's where he belongs, is too much. Maybe Tony's the one who needs to get some sleep with these delusional thoughts. He slows his breathing, but it's no use. Not with those little, breathy noises that escape from Clay's lips. He bites his lip when he sees a bulge in Clay's jeans as well. Ok, maybe Clay isn't as nice and heterosexual as he first thought. 

Clay pauses the tapes and pushes back against Tony. A semi-hard boy squirming in his lap, even with all his clothes on, is enough to make him fully erect. Tony tries to hold him and stop his shifting, but it only seems to egg Clay on. 

"You're doing that on purpose now."

"I can't listen to the tapes," Clay whines. "Seems like you can't either." 

"N-no, I can concentrate. Keep going."

"I don't think it's appropriate to listen to a dead girl's final message with an erection, Tony."

 _Well...when you put it like that_ , Tony thinks and flushes.

"Then go take care of it. Okay? The bathrooms there, and I'll also just-"

"You started it so...you should finish it."

And with that Clay's turns in his lap, so he's straddling him. His cheeks are red, hair slicked back, and eyes dilated. Tony should be the 'adult' and put a stop to this, but he's a seventeen year old boy not a saint. The rational part of his brain is off, and the part that wants to kiss Clay is turned way up. He runs a hand through Clay's soft, brown hair and presses their foreheads together. Their lips are so close...their chests flush together....erections pressed up to each other...

"Why couldn't you just listen to the fucking tapes?" Tony groans even as he cups Clay's face and kisses him. He kisses him hard and dirty like he's been imagining for a while now. In the back of his mind, he remembers the texts from earlier, and he knows that this is wrong. But Clay tastes like peppermints. Tony's mind drifts away even as his body moves forward, desperately rutting without his permission. He's delirious from Clay's soft body in his lap. _Stop you idiot_ , his mind screams, trying to pull him back, but the voice isn't louder than the arousal pushing him forward.

Clay's still at first but then he starts to kiss him back and that's all the consent Tony need to run a hand down his arched back. He rests his hand over Clay's ass and squeezes the softness over the rough denim. Their breathing's getting more labored as they pant into each other's mouths. He rolls them over, so now he's between Clay's open thighs, and it's easier to rut against him. The sinful smack of their lips is the only sound in the room as he heatedly ruts forward. Clay's eyes are glazed, even more lost in the moment than he is, and, judging by the helpless shake of his hips and the increasing volume of his moans, he's getting closer and closer. _My boy's so loud._

" _Shhh_ , my dad's downstairs," Tony manages to whisper, but there's not use for words. Not now. 

Clay makes an unintelligible noise in response, and they're both past the point of pretending. Tony quiets him with a deeper kiss, burying his hand in Clay's hair. Pulls. Rocks forward. Gasps. Rocks forward again. 

When Clay wraps his legs around Tony's back, he arches it, toes curling, and tries to stop himself from cumming. It's only been two minutes if that. But Clay's broken, little noises and needy clinging is too much. Tony squeezes his eyes, riding the high of his orgasm, and cums in his jeans. Clay cums a second after.  

They lie there, panting.

And after all that? Clay still hasn't listened to the fucking tapes; they lie behind them, and Tony's stomach twists with guilt at the sight. This is not how he planned for the night to turn out, but, judging by the smile curling at Clay's lips, it's not the worst way either. 

"Will you stay with me?" Clay whispers, interlacing their fingers together. Tony's glad he's not freaking the fuck out about what happened. Maybe the orgasms have just over ridden their common sense or maybe they've just been edging around each other for too long. Either way Tony's heart twists happily when Clay snuggles into his neck.

Tony squeezes his hand and sighs, "Duh, you still gotta finish those tapes."

But he thinks _always_.

**Author's Note:**

> Leaves kudos/comments if you enjoyed.


End file.
